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A moan sounded from the bedroom, and Will’s lips turned up. Stefan was proudly sexual, and their chemistry was off the charts. The first time they’d met—Stefan on the dancefloor of a club and Will admiring him from the sidelines—was burned into Will’s brain. He’d been swept up in Stefan’s magnetism and presence, and as soon as he’d gotten close, Will couldn’t keep his hands off the man. It hadn’t taken them long before they were hooking up every time Will was onshore, and they’d been quick to elope too. A drunken night out was to thank for that, but Will had never regretted his one act of impulsiveness, even if it did strain his relationship with his parents.
Smiling, Will stripped off his hoodie and the long-sleeved tee he wore underneath it. He unbuttoned his jeans, palming his growing erection as he listened to the sounds Stefan was making.
Will pushed open the partly closed door and froze. Like in the loungeroom, the bedside lamps were set low. But even though the light was dim, there was no mistaking the picture before him. A stranger lay on his back, the other man—his husband—straddling him. Naked, sweaty, and moving as one, Stefan rode him, the bloke’s fat cock sliding in and out of Stefan with every rock of his husband’s hips. Will opened his mouth, but no words came. His body flushed hot, shock boiling through his system before it instantly turned to ice when he looked to the point where they were connected. The dude buried in Stefan was bare. He’d been on PreP—they both had—but they’d stopped taking it after they were married. He didn’t think it was necessary anymore; Stefan had agreed. How wrong he was.
Will slumped against the doorframe and blew out a pained breath, his chest constricting like a vice around his heart, the organ breaking into a million pieces. And in his bubble with his lover, Stefan still moved, riding the guy’s dick as he arched his slim back and moaned again. “Yes, that’s it,” he hissed, his voice breathy. Will knew that tone. His husband was close to coming apart in another man’s arms.
“So tight,” the other moaned.
He couldn’t watch anymore. Disgust turned his stomach, and betrayal left a sour taste in his mouth. Leaving his suitcase at the door, he staggered away, bumping into the wall as he made it to the couch, the same one they’d picked out and christened the moment the delivery blokes were out the door. They hadn’t even unwrapped the plastic that first time. Defeat warred with exhaustion, and his mind short-circuited. His legs wouldn’t carry him any further. He slumped in the seat and rested his elbows on his knees. Hung his head low and rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears tracking down his cheeks. He hated himself for crying; he didn’t even have the energy to, but he couldn’t help it. Will tried to block the noises from the bedroom from his brain.
He failed miserably.
Moans and skin slapping together, the creak of their bed and the bang of the headboard as his husband and the stranger fucked their way to a climax. When Stefan’s shout rent the air, Will lurched forward, vomiting on the rug. His guts heaved, and more came up, emptying his stomach’s contents at his feet.
“What the fuck?” asked a voice he didn’t recognize at the same time as his husband uttered, “Oh, shit.”
Quick footsteps on the carpeted floor sounded, and Will looked up, glassy-eyed and wavering in the seat. “You’re early,” Stefan said matter of factly, his ire obvious. He stood before Will, naked as the day he was born, his hand on his hip and cum dripping down the inside of his leg. The man behind Stefan was a foot taller than his husband, broader in the shoulders too, a glare on his face.
“How long?” Will rasped, motioning between the two of them with a flick of his wrist.
“Doesn’t matter,” Stefan replied, turning his nose up at Will.
Will shook his head, his thoughts bouncing around in his brain like a bad pinball machine. “No, you’re right. It doesn’t matter.” He stood on shaky legs and headed for the bathroom. He winced when he flicked the lights on; they were far too bright for his sensitive eyes. Will looked at himself in the mirror and groaned. Dark circles highlighted the sallow tone of his skin. He splashed water on his face, barely feeling its chill. Will looked down at his wet hands and noticed them shaking, but he couldn’t feel it. Numbness had set in, giving him an almost out-of-body sensation. He blinked slowly and reached for the mouthwash, pausing for a moment when he noticed an unfamiliar toothbrush in the holder alongside his husband’s. This bloke had been living in their apartment. Will wondered what Stefan had planned—would he have told him? Or would all evidence of the other man have disappeared before Will returned home?
Rinsing his mouth out, he heard angry whispers in the hallway and huffed out a humourless laugh. It was as if he was the one doing the wrong thing. Maybe it was. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to surprise Stefan by coming home a day early. It was a fluke that it’d happened at all. Will was supposed to meet his parents for the day in Sydney, but they’d cancelled at the last minute, and Will had jumped at the opportunity to change his flight and see his husband. Spitting out the mouthwash, Will wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and walked out, barely stopping to collect his luggage.
With a hand on the front door, Stefan’s loud voice cut through the silence. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re not leaving until you’ve cleaned that up.” Stefan pointed to the vomit still staining on the rug.
“Bite me,” Will muttered. “Oh wait, you probably already bit him.” He turned to glare at the man. “Did you know he was married?”
The other man shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“Wow,” Will uttered. He wasn’t even shocked that the man, still standing naked before him with cum drying on his belly and chest, was as much of a callous bastard as his husband. “In that case, enjoy each other.”
“Oh, we will,” Stephan purred, bending over the couch and presenting his arse to the other man. “Come on, Chad, give me that fat cock again.”
Will pulled the door closed and shuffled into his jumper and coat in the hall, preferring to do it in the chilly air without the visual or the symphony of moans as Stefan and his new lover began fucking again right there.
Thirty minutes after he’d entered, Will exited the building and hailed a taxi. Unlike their hallway, at nine in the evening, the street in front of their building was busy. The driver took him closer to the city, where there was a cluster of hotels, pulling into the first one. Assuming they had a room vacant, the historic building would be his temporary home while he untangled himself from the chaos his life had suddenly been thrown into. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long, and he could leave the US. He was unlikely to be back—his only reason had already moved on.
Will moved mechanically, paying the driver, collecting his suitcase, and checking into the hotel. When the door to his room closed behind him, enveloping him in the quiet space, Will forced himself to do one last thing before he crashed. Shower. Still operating on autopilot, Will cranked the heat up and turned on the hot water. He had the sensation of watching himself as he undressed, unfeeling of the shift of material against his skin. Naked, he shivered even as steam filled the room. His muscles protested taking another step, but he pressed forward and into the shower stall, falling against the cold tiles. Leaning against the wall, the shock of the cold had him sucking in a breath. It was only then that he noticed the heat of the water hitting him. Will’s skin prickled, a thousand tiny knives stabbing him as feeling returned to his body. The numbness washed down the drain with the water, leaving a void in its wake. His legs buckled, and Will slid to the floor, heaving sobs wracking his body as his world fell apart.
*****
His doctor’s appointment was later that afternoon, and the lawyer assured Will he would be able to finalize the divorce without him having to return to the States. It was a good thing too; he didn’t want to go back. He stood at the window of his hotel room and looked out over the sea of buildings lining the street as he sipped the coffee room service had sent up. He didn’t have much of a view, but it would have been wasted on him in the last three days anyway. He’d slept, waking only to eat and use the facilities. He hadn’t left his room since he’d checked in. This was the first daylight he’d spied too. But it was time to get moving now. He wanted to gather his things and get the hell out of Seattle. He’d messaged Stefan, telling him to make himself scarce while he collected his clothes, but Will knew it was wishful thinking. There was no way the man would be kind enough to leave, not when Stefan had already been so cruel. Will wondered when things had changed for his husband or if they’d ever been as Will had pictured them. Will was a romantic at heart. He’d fallen fast and hard for the beautiful man who’d watched Will, his heated gaze sending prickles of awareness through Will. Stefan’s desire had been obvious, and Will had soaked it in, never having been appreciated as blatantly before. It was as if Stefan wanted to make a meal out of him.
That heat had been nowhere in Stefan’s gaze the last time he’d seen him, and it sent a pang of disappointment through Will. Was it his fault? Had he done something to turn Stefan off him? Had he driven his husband away? Not satisfied him? Then he came to his senses, and Will wanted to kick himself. His only fault had been his naivety. Believing Stefan would be faithful because of a few words spoken in front of a celebrant was wishful thinking. He’d always been driven by a need for sex, and Will could barely keep up with him some days. He should have known better, thinking that Stefan would wait for him for months at a time when the man could go out and find a warm body at any club any night of the week.
Will’s mum called him as the lift descended to the ground floor, and he answered it, dreading the conversation. He loved his ma, but he knew the “I told you so” was coming. He’d had to tell them what went down—he wouldn’t keep that kind of information from them and risk further damaging their already rocky relationship—but now he had to face the music. His ma was no doubt seeking answers to Will’s cryptic text.
“Hey, Ma,” he greeted.
“Will, baby, I’m so sorry.” Pity laced her voice.
“Yeah, well you told me he was no good,” he mumbled, figuring he’d get the lecture over and done with sooner rather than later.
“Enough of that. We never liked him, but we never wanted him to hurt you. What a bastard,” she cursed, then asked, “How are you? Are you all right?”
